Summary: Just divorced, Chuck thinks that all is said between him and Blair. But why does she show up at his doorstep at night? Future fic.
AN: No, I didn't forget about this story. Just got a little distracted... Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Big thanks to Britt for beta-ing and to Sandra for co-authoring me through it! Especially the part with Chuck wouldn't exist without you, hun!
Disclaimer: Nothing's changed since the last time I updated. I still don't own anything.
Way Back Into Love
Chapter 11: Cancer Bitch
"Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. I first got it when I was – what? - forty-three, I believe. So,
mastectomy, chemo, radiation … the whole gamut. Terrible, but it was actually successful at the time. Then,two years later, the same thing again, this time on the other side. So I was like 'Yeah sure, just cut the damn thing off! I just want some peace!' After that I actually was lucky for seven years, and now, two months ago,boom! Liver full of metastases. Of course inoperable. Now I'll need to have another eighteen rounds of chemo." Rose
"Terrible... just terrible. Each time a trip to hell and right back. I remember my first time. The nausea wasn't even the worst part. I had a neuropathy witch made me lose control of my legs. For the rest of the day I just laid on my couch, terribly sick, having headaches like crazy, hot flashes and unsure if I would rather live or die." Claire
"My Mum had breast cancer for the third time last year. Unfortunately she has metastases everywhere now. In her lungs, too. Right now she's in the hospital again because she can't breathe. When they fixed her left lung lope last week, we thought that the worst was behind us, but now the other side starts to fail. I'm pretty scared at the moment, because in the past few days she's suffered a lot. It's just cruel to see my mother vegetate like that." Sophia
"Lousy... to say the least. The first two days after the chemo were actually okay, but then I think my body realized what poison it had to handle there. I was so tired and emotionless. Not the slightest bit of positive energy. It's like I'm not myself anymore, and I'm really scared that this state of mind won't change go away." Jane.
Blair's mouth stood open after the monologues she had just heard from all of the women around her. Serena frowned. This was clearly not the kind of motivation talk she had had in mind when she suggested her best friend should talk to some fellow cancer patients by joining a support group.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't run out of here this very moment," Blair muttered towards Serena.
"Sorry I'm late group!" Blair wasn't even surprised to see the familiar red head scarf sitting down in the chair next to her – Hannah. The woman she'd met on several occasions during her treatment. "Little emergency at home. My husband thought he'd surprise me with his baking... Let's just say – surprised I was."
"Ugh," another woman – Rose? Blair couldn't really remember – sighed. "Don't you just hate it when they try to help you with house work, but really double the amount of mess?"
A few other people laughed and smiled knowingly.
"So, apparently you already started without me," Hannah gathered. "And I see we have a newbie with us. Blair – honey, why don't you introduce yourself to the group?"
Blair once again cursed her best friend for dragging her here. All of this had been okay when she was just a quiet listener, but now she was actually supposed to tell her story to those strangers? Encouragingly Serena, who sat next to her, nudged her, just earning a death stare from the - currently fake – redhead.
"Hi my name is Blair, and I had a mastectomy, almost four weeks ago. Today," she took a look at her watch, "in less than three hours actually, I'm supposed to receive my first round of chemotherapy... So I guess these are going be the last few moments before my life really turns out to be hell."
"Oh darling, don't talk like that!" Hannah said enthusiastically, making Blair wonder if the woman ever was in a bad mood. "Chemo is not your enemy, cancer is. And the chemo will be your ally in this war."
Blair just looked back at Hannah with skeptical raised eyebrows and an expression that said Are you shitting me?
Serena was the first to speak after the several moments of silence. "She's not that big a fan of pep talks."
"What pep talk," Blair burst out. "I've been sitting here for half an hour now, listening to all of the kinds of horrible things all of you have suffered through because of chemo and cancer. How in hell should that motivate me?"
"Oh, I see," Jane turned to Blair now. "So we're supposed to lie to you and tell you that chemo will be just a walk in the park? You think that'll make you feel better when you're kneeling in front of the toilet vomiting your guts out for several hours?"
"Well, the way you're talking surely isn't convincing me that I should do the chemo," Blair said.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Blair could tell that Jane just was getting warm for another attack. "We got a classic PM on our hands here!"
"PM," Serena wondered aloud.
"Oh you see," Rose continued for her friend, "when it comes to treating cancer women quickly divide into certain stereotypes. There's the IDB, translating 'I do, BUT...' Those are the chicks who keep telling how much they pull themselves together and want to fight, but then there's always a big 'but' why this and that won't work out."
"Rose...," Hannah warned, but the dunned one was just moving into gear.
"Further there is the IAA - 'I am afraid.' She's probably the toughest of all of us since she's openly admitting what unifies all of us. Cancer makes you lonely, weak and afraid."
"You didn't answer my question," Serena stepped in again. "What does PM mean?"
"Oh, that stands for 'Poor me'," Rose had turned to Blair again. "Because those are the words that you want to start every sentence with. Every try to cheer you up or motivate you is being beaten down with flying colors! It's all nice and comfy down in the dark well as long as someone is standing above, looking down to you from time to time. Throwing something pretty, and few nice words down here and there."
"Okay enough, ladies," Hannah cut in just as Jane wanted to speak up again. "You two have to stop slaughtering each other, we've all got cancer for that, remember?"
The remaining thirty minutes Blair just sat in her chair, arms crossed, not sharing anything with the group, but not really listening either. She had to keep a clear mind if she wanted to make it through this day.
As she and Serena walked out of the room, she was still caught up in her thoughts, not in the mood to talk, while her friend simply wouldn't shut up.
"... I think that woman leading the group made a really good point, you know..."
"Uh huh."
"She's absolutely right. Chemo isn't the enemy, the cancer is." Serena seemed so enthusiastic, and Blair wondered if she should just kick her right here.
"Sure."
"Are you even really listening to me Blair?"
"Absolutely."
"Blair!"
"Oh, try to whitewash it all you want," she grumbled, when they were waiting for the elevator doors to open. "You heard what that one woman said, 'One-way street to hell'."
"Negativity won't get you anywhere!"
"Just shut the fuck up," Blair burst out suddenly. "You're not the one who has to do it! Stop trying to talk about it, like you know what I'm going through. You don't know what it feels like to want to run a hand through your hair, but then realize, 'Whoops, almost forgot. I'm bald!' You don't know what it's like to look at your naked form in the mirror, having just one breast! You don't know shit! So keep your clever advice to yourself!"
That for once actually made Serena be quiet. Blair almost regretted her harsh words. The truth was she was altogether thankful that her best friend had agreed to come with her. But on the other hand, she was utterly terrified and a nervous wreck. So the two women continued the elevator drive wordlessly until the doors opened again on the chosen floor.
The word "ONCOLOGY" on the the destination board was first thing to catch Blair's eye. She hated the word. It sounded like pain, tears and premature death. Things she had planned to ignore until post menopause.
Checking in at the front desk, she felt hot and cold shivers running over her. A part of her hoped that she would faint, and wake up when she was already attached to the cytostatics. At least at that point she wouldn't be able to change her mind and run out anymore.
The inside of her mouth was dry as sandpaper when she told the nurse her name and purpose of her being there. The woman told her that she was already expected and asked her to follow her to the private room they had reserved for her. And as much as she knew that what she had to do now was take a step after the nurse, her feet seemed to disagree, as they kept her firmly in one place. It wasn't until she felt Serena's hand squeezing her own, 'I'm right by your side.' and a desperately tight squeeze back 'Thank you.' that she started to move.
The room they were led to was comfortable. Warm colors, nice furniture and not as hospital-like as the hall way. Even the disinfectant dispenser was covered by a nice maroon colored barrier. Having been married to the richest man in Manhattan even seemed to have its perks when you were ill with cancer.
"I'll let you get settled in," the nurse said, almost out of the room again. "Doctor Parker should be here any minute to attach you to the cytostatics."
The transparent bag hanging on the IV pole Blair had spotted the moment she'd walked into the. It contained bilious green fluid.
"Now look at that," she drawled while handing her coat to Serena and sitting down on the bed before gesturing to the infusion and the sign on it. "Skull and crossbones. How fitting for the doomed people lying in those beds."
"The only thing doomed here are your cancer cells," Dr. Parker said enthusiastically as she entered the room. After greeting Blair and Serena with a quick handshake she turned to the former. "You're ready to do this, Blair?"
"I'm guessing 'no', isn't the answer you want to hear," Blair replied dryly.
"It'd be an honest one, at least," the doctor replied.
Blair draped herself on the bed, fixed her skirt in a ladylike move and outstretched her arm. "Let's get this over with."
He stood in his office and starred out the window. It was almost one o'clock. Today Blair would get her first round of chemo and he couldn't be there. It killed him inside. Not even his revenge - a low one, even for him - on Val could cheer him up.
A knock on the door brought him back to reality.
"Mr. Bass, Mr. Smith here to see you." his assistant told him.
"Send him in," Chuck nodded and walked back to his desk. He'd been waiting for this all day.
"I have the information you wanted." Mike told him, putting an envelope down on the desk.
Impatiently Chuck ripped open the wrapping, letting the photographs inside scatter all over his desk. They showed Blair and Serena on their way to the hospital. In a strange way, he was a little disappointed to see her not wearing his scarf, but a – admittedly stunning – red long haired wig. The facial expressions on her and Serena were clearly tense, to say the least, but Blair being quite the lady as always, had made sure that her outward appearance was perfect. Actually, the more perfect her outfit was, the more messed up she was inside he could be sure of that.
"Anything else I should know?"
"She went to the hospital's chemo self-help group before the actual treatment. It seems that she didn't make the best first impression. I heard one of the woman telling about the newbies' bad behavior."
Chuck smirked. Blair Waldorf wasn't a chit-chat woman.
"That's not all," the PI continued in a strained voice, which made Chuck look up from the pictures. "She doesn't seem to be quite convinced that chemo is the way to go. The stories the other women told her about chemo seemed to scare her."
"Wait a minute? They are sitting there, pitying each other for the side-effects the chemo brings on them?"
"That's what a self-help group is for, Mr. Bass," Mike replied, matter-of-factly.
"I don't know what you have to do, but she won't see those women anymore. Make sure that she gets her private room for the treatment."
"Of course, sir. Good day."
As the man had left Chuck went through the photos another time before putting them back in the envelope. He walked over to his private safe, opening it by entering the code. He put the new item into the quickly growing folder he'd set up for Blair. In it every piece of medical document on Blair he'd managed to get his hands on could be found. Physician's letters, Mammography scans. Operative reports, Histological Results, etcetera. He even already knew what cytostatic she would get.
Having everything looked over by his personal doctor he also knew some kind of prognosis. Which, apparently wasn't good. She was a high-risk-case. Statistically every third to fifth woman with her diagnosis wouldn't be alive in ten years.
Trying to suppress that knowledge, he shut the safe door and got back to his desk. Work-related records were already piling up on it. The storage space on his email in-box would surely conk out soon.
As much as he tried, he wasn't able to concentrate on work properly. He hadn't been able to ever since Serena had told him the truth about Blair's condition. Sighing, he poured himself another glass of scotch, running a hand through his hair – the way he always did when he was completely at loss. The fear of losing her ate him up inside. And the fact that he couldn't be here for her now, when he knew she needed him the most was even worse. If he just knew what to do to support her.
Sitting here and getting reports and pictures from his investigator certainly wouldn't help her, nor him.
Blair had watched every single drop of the toxic-looking fluid creeping into her body. As the green liquid drug had reached the end of the IV line she was attached to, she had expected to feel something – a tingle, a stinging pain, or fatigue running over her – anything would have qualified. But even now, after the bag was half empty she still didn't feel the slightest bit different.
She felt surprisingly fine.
Although, she had to send Serena to the cafeteria a while ago. The constant chatter and attempts to cheer her up by the blonde had made her crazy. She knew she was being a bitch, and on some level also felt sorry for her best friend who kept trying and trying and only got rejected by her.
She looked up from Lopsided: How having breast cancer can really be distracting as the door flew open.
Mentally she prepared herself for even more efforts to cheer her up.
But instead of gorgeous blonde mane, a woman with a – surprise! - red head scarf walked in, balancing six cups of coffee, concentrating really hard on not dropping anything.
She didn't even look at Blair as she spoke, "Okay girls, here are two non-fat latte with soy milk and Rose honey I couldn't get your herbal tea but--," in that moment she spotted Blair. "But apparently I'm in the wrong room."
Blair just raised an eyebrow and brought her attention back to the book in her hands, "Seems so."
For a moment Hannah stood in the room, unsure whether to go or stay. Then she set down all of the cups on a nearby table studying her surroundings and stopping at Blair at the foot end of the bed.
"Listen, I know those women in group today can be a lot for one new to this subject. But for most of them it's the only place where they can properly talk about their feelings."
"Don't any of them have a social life at all," Blair asked, sounding more cynical than she had intended.
"Some women feel as they would burden their family and friends by telling them how they really feel."
Blair fell silent. Strangely she could relate to that. Whenever Serena had asked her how she felt, she'd lied. In actual fact she was terrified to the bone, but in Blair's eyes showing fear was a sign of weakness, so she preferred not talking about her feelings at all.
In the time she had been caught up with her thoughts, Hannah had started to wander around in the room.
Checking the IV bags she grimaced slightly.
"Yikes," she said, a mixture of horror and awe on her face. "They're really giving you the hardcore stuff here! How are you holding up?"
"Never been better," Blair said – and for once it was the truth. She didn't feel any different.
The look on the other woman's face was an unspoken 'enjoy it while it lasts.'
"And how come I see you here by yourself again? Weren't you with a friend before?"
"I sent her away. Her attempts to encourage me were driving me nuts."
"Don't underestimate how hard chemo can be on your loved ones," Hannah said.
"I could think of better ways of spending quality time with my best friend as well," Blair defended, slamming her book shut. She grew silent a moment later, "I'm honestly surprised she still sticks around. She shouldn't have to put up with any of this." I shouldn't have to put up with any of this. A tear slipped down her cheek which she wiped away quickly and tried to smile. "I'm not usually this emotional. It's just kind of overwhelming. I'm sorry."
"Oh honey," Hannah took one of her hands between her own. "Don't apologize. You have every right to be overwhelmed. You have cancer. And mostly, that fucking sucks. So if you feel the need to scream, scream. Nobody here will judge you."
"Maybe you won't. But Serena-- my friend, all she ever did was trying to help me and be a good friend. And all I did in return was bitch at her all day long. I wouldn't blame her if she didn't come back at all."
"Not even a Blair Waldorf-Bass can come up with the amount of bitchiness to drive me away."
Blair looked up surprised, spotting her best friend who leaned casually in the door way, a smile on her lips.
"Come on, B," Serena said sitting down on the bed, taking her friend's hand. "We made it through puberty without killing each other. You think a little bit of chemo-bitchiness will scare me off?"
As the two friends hugged it out, Hannah discretely had made her way to the door. Not wanting to disturb any longer.
"Hannah!" Blair called after her. "To what category do you belong? PM, IAA or IDB?"
"Me? I'm a CB," Hannah smiled.
Involuntarily, the words Chuck Bass popped into Blair's mind. She couldn't help it. Chuck used to love seeing his initials on almost everything he owned.
"A cancer bitch. I gave cancer the finger and told it to get the fuck out."
A smile appeared on Blair's lips as she nodded. That sounded like a category she could acquire taste for.
"I'd be happy to see you in group next week, Blair."
"I'll be there," Blair responded, surprising herself, when she realized, she wasn't lying.
To be continued.
AN: I know... not to much Chuck/Blair action in this one. Hope you liked it anyway. Please review. It only takes you about half a minute and it makes me happy for the rest of the day.